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I was dozing in the small bed in the early afternoon. My diaper was sopping wet around me. It was growing cold next to my skin. I started to fuss. The babysitter came over to me. She smiled she knew it was time for more fun with me. I was picked up and moved onto the hard changing table where she could have more control over me, watch me closer. My blanket was slipped away as was my sleep wear so I was just in a vest and diaper. She unpinned the diaper and folded it back, rolling it down as she lifted my legs up high over my chest. She pulled the diaper out from under me. Separating my legs she could look at my infant genitals. They were real small and pale. She brought my legs up high again, folding them at the knees. Now she could see my anus. It peeped out between my fleshy cheeks.
I felt the free air and warm sunlight across my genitals. My little penis struggled up into a baby erection barely an inch in length. She spread my legs wider to allow the erection to wobble and bob free from my thighs. My scrotum hung down loose, heavy with swollen testes, out of proportion to the small penis. When it stood up stiff it showed the head was completely covered in a sleeve foreskin allowing just part of the penal head to show through the folds of puckered skin.
I shiver as the urge to empty my bladder passes through me. Urine starts with a few hesitant drops but continues into a full flow. My foreskin traps the make of the stream, letting the pale liquid flow unevenly out and down my erection, down the back of my thighs and into the fold of towels on the changing table.
My legs are spread wider and wider as I urinate, so that every detail can be seen and as if to urge me to continue to pee.
As the flow slows down to dribbles, my erection collapses, slumping over to the left. My legs are lowered to the table top but positioned wide apart. The babysitter reaches for a tin of vaseline, putting a large amount on her index finger. She flexes my knees so that my feet touch sole to sole while the legs lie on the counter. This position separates my cheeks again, getting the anus to show. She slowly presses her finger tip to the anus, pressing it smoothing until the whole finger is inside my rectum. She rotates it around, lets it glide over the sensitive tissue deep in me. She’s seeing if I need a bowel movement.
I feel the pressure and then feel myself being filled by her finger. My penis immediately erects again, sticking up, straining in its foreskin as the finger revolves inside me.
She smiles as she sees my involuntary reaction. She searches carefully for the small spot where she knows I have my immature prostate. She uses extra finger pressure on it. She does not find enough in my rectum for a bowel movement but before she removes the finger she rubs everything inside once more as if to loosen me up. She reaches especially deep now, letting the finger tip probe as high up as she can press. Them the finger comes out in smooth unhurried glide leaving my anus slick with a mix including vaseline and mucus from my rectum.
I have been trained to lie perfectly still on the changing table so no matter how invasive or uncomfortable or long the examination, I lie with my legs open and my arms out. Anytime I squirmed or tried to roll away, my legs were taken up and short stinging slaps administered to my spread behind, instantly making me cry. By now I docilely accept anything done to my rectum and genitals.
My babysitter knows from experience that after a thorough rectal rubbing my penis has developed a strong erection that will last throughout the rest of the changing play. She prepares hot soapy water and the necessary cloth items for my bath.
I am placed on rubber sheeting and warm water is sluiced over my behind and genitals. She next works up a soapy lather over her hands and then she puts her hands in my groins rubbing everything especially my erection in her soapy fingers. She separates out all folds and creases soaping me up. I am rolled onto my side so a soapy finger can slip in and out of my anus, causing a lot of stinging sensations. These are to induce me to a bowel movement if possible but otherwise to keep the anus inflamed and very sensitive for the vaseline rubbing. I am rolled onto my back again and my legs spread flat to the counter. In this position my pendent scrotum is very vulnerable. She uses her soapy finger tips to rub the testes around in the loose sack, applying pressure first at the margins and then at the center crease, finishing with light pressure in rubbing them against my groin. This activity keeps the testes large and full of fluid. My diaper is also kept very tight so the scrotum is continually pressed against my body and feels the friction every time I set up or crawl or kick my legs. But the most careful attention is put on my infant penis. It is stroked inside soapy fingers, rubbing it from base to tip. It is put carefully into a soaped fist to first squeeze and than jack it vigorously. Its usual pale color flushes to a bright pink. The foreskin stretches tight across the head, trapping it.
Once I have been sufficiently soaped, I am sluiced with clear warm water, picked up to be patted dry in toweling before being laid down on a fresh towel for handling in earnest. All that had happened so far was just preparation for the manipulations to follow. The session would be gradual and slow, every response in me would be observed and carefully remembered so as to develop and exploit areas of increased sensitivity. There was no possibility that she would be discovered. I was delivered to her for the full day. My father would not be back to pick me up until early evening. She lived in a rear apartment with no windows on the street. No passersby would have even seen an entry door. She had endless hours to examine and experiment with me. And this was possible day after day for weeks and now months.
I’m sure she did not start with the intention of developing my sexual responses. It was just an accident. I was the first child she had cared for. My mother’s illness more or less pressed her, our tenant, to do the work in response to an emergency. As the illness dragged on, the care became routine. At some point in all this novel contact she enjoyed handling and looking at my genitals. It might have just been something cute to her. At some point I would have shown a pleasure reaction. She would have wanted to try to get that response from me again. She would have experimented to see what particular handling seemed to provide a quicker and a stronger reaction from me. Once this interest became a regular pastime she indulged herself any number of times each day to it.
“What’s the matter? Bobby have a sore poopoo?” she crooned as lifted my legs way high, separating my pink cheeks with eager fingers.
My anus was flattened to a broad red disk.
“Oh. Here’s some rash and here too,” she answered herself. “Well I know how to make it all feel better.”
She reached for a heavy tin of greasy vaseline, scooping up a large dab on her finger tip. She lavished it on the presented hole, smoothing it across the puckered tissue, watching it ooze into all the creases and folds. Once the area is completely shimmering in the thick oil she begins lightly fingering into the anus, letting a finger tip ease just inside the ring, withdrawing it and inserting it again.
I become agitated due to the rubbing of the inflamed surface, still smarting from the recent soaping.
“Oh a naughty Bobby. No. No. No,” she exclaims with a stinging slaps on my upturned behind. Each hit is calculated to have the fingers graze the outer rim of the anus causing it to redden even more.
After a few ineffectual cries, I am sufficiently bullied to be totally compliant to all her manipulation regardless of the discomfort.
Realizing she has established “who’s boss” with me, she relents, saying “Well now, I’m sure I won’t have to do that again. Just be still while I get you all fixed up.”
I smile up at her.
She takes this as my consent to begin the serious attention to my special areas.
My legs are folded practically double over my chest spreading the cheeks until the anus is totally revealed. Holding my legs in the position with one are, she can let her inquisitive finger resume. This time the index finger is introduced in a long smooth stroke until it completely fills the rectum. Her hand is pressed firmly against the spread cheeks before she allows the finger to wiggle and tickle at the deepest extent she can reach.
She sees me smile again.
“Oh you’ll grow up a homosexual for sure, won’t you?”
Uncomprehending, I smile the more at her.
She laughs at my seeming agreement.
She slowly withdraws the finger keeping it busy rubbing it around and around. Once withdrawn, she loads it up again with additional vaseline and reinserts it. She does this several more times, packing vaseline inside me. Throughout the remainder of the changing session the warm vaseline dribbles out through my slack anus. She makes sure the anus is slack by finger spreading it to see if it gaps nicely. It does. Should it not, well more fingering is called for.
It goes without saying that when she looks at my oozing anus, she also confirms that my penis is at complete erection as it should be. Her months of sexual training of me brings consistent results. And knowing my bladder needs and my reactions to the rectal rub, she anticipates my next activity. Urination.
Out of the tip of the stiffened penis I begin to dribble amber drops. She has continually plied me with bottle after bottle of milk or juice so as to keep me urinating frequently. The rectal packing with vaseline allowed her constantly to rub over the expanding bladder until the inevitable.
Before a full stream of urine can spurt from me she places her lips lightly over the tip of my penis allowing my hot baby urine to flow into her mouth. She can take barely a couple swallows before I run dry. She greedily sucks lightly to catch the last drops that might be clinging to my foreskin.
“Oh good baby. Good baby. Bobby went weewee.”
I grin back at her, I know I’ve done a good thing.
“Well baby needs a treatment to keep him healthy and happy, doesn’t he?” she asked knowing I’d grin up at her.
So that there is no chance I’ll interfere with her careful attentions, I am bound into position with spare toweling. My arms are flexed and put at my chest with a single towel wrapped tightly around them. I cannot move either hand down to protect my diaper area. Other towels are used on my legs, one each so that the thigh and lower leg are wrapped tight together with both legs then separated as far as possible. This gives her complete view and access to my genitals and parted anus.
My penis is still stiff from the recent handling, my scrotum danging in loose folds above the red disk she has so recently fingered.
With skilled and practiced fingers she grasps my penis below the bulging glans to slowly withdraw the sleeve of foreskin down to the stubby base. The skin requires more and more tension to roll back over the head.
I start to fuss at the discomfort.
“Oh Bobby has a sore peepee. Don’t cry. I’ll make it all better.”
With a little more pressure the foreskin snaps back from the small fleshy nub, revealing a bald pink tip with a sharp edge of the corona. She continues to work the foreskin down until it is completely smooth to the shaft, the tie a thin vee under the pee slit.
During her beginning care of me she had spent weeks making my foreskin to peel from the glans, causing me to cry. She would work the skin free using two hands, taking the edge of the skin in her thumb and finger and pulling it until I started resisting. She’d give my behind several hard smacks to teach me to lie still and go back to working the skin loose. By now the skin was elastic enough to retract smoothly with steady pressure though it still was uncomfortable for me.
Keeping the skin tightly in place she takes a cotton swab drenched in baby oil to blot the surface of the penis, covering it in a shimmering oily sheen before releasing the skin to slowly edge upward covering most of the glans. She steadies the stiff penis in her fingers while dripping more baby oil onto the exposed section of the head, allowing the clear liquid to pool under the cupped foreskin. The oil continues dripping until it runs down the shaft of the penis over the parted scrotum and into the deep crease of the anus, until every sensitive place is well covered.
“There baby isn’t sore any more. But I have to work the medicine in so baby gets well.”
Both her hands roam over my diaper area as she smears the oil evenly everywhere. She slips a finger to the second knuckle into my anus to confirm it is still slack for the earlier rubbing and that the vaseline is freely oozing out. Next she lets her fingers trail up and down my genital package, making sure my scrotum contents are rolled lightly against my groin. When my scrotum begins to tighten from the stimulation, she carefully works it loose again so it tangles the better to rub my testes. All the while she is stroking my baby erection up and down. If my glans comes out too far she works the skin back to recap it allowing all the oil there to keep it well lubricated.
After a while she develops an obvious masturbation of my penis, jacking the foreskin up and off the head. The penis becomes very rigid and takes on a heady blush under the manipulation.
Before I progress too far, she recaps the penis and focuses on my anus and rectum. First she brushes a finger tip across the split opening, teasing the ring as it loosens under the pressure and then contracts afterward. Soon she is introducing just the tip of the finger to flatten the ring, letting it open easily after she withdraws. Then she presses the finger deep inside to rub the rectal interior completely confirming the extra tension that has built up around my infant prostate.
Her other hand is reworking my scrotum, lightly pinching the skin between fingertips until the whole sac wrinkles and tightens up into a single hard lump. Intermittently she rolls the testes as they become less free, until she can only put light pressure against them when the seat into place. Once this happens she can proceed with the manipulation of my erection.
When she was just learning how to play with me, she was most interested in seeing if I could be maked to orgasm, even ejaculation. But it seemed for a while that could not happen. She tired more and more activities on me to see which would be irresistible to my body requiring me to come despite my innocence. Once my foreskin could be held back in place to the shaft she was able to attend to the little red glans and rub the flange and deep ridge around it. This brought me seemingly very close to orgasm but she could not trigger it before I became too sore to handle there. Week after week she masturbated me but could not succeed in getting me to surrender to her. It was only after all these sessions had built up tension in my little body that she accidentally discovered what she knew was my fatal weakness, anal stimulation.
By sheer chance as she was masturbating my exposed glans she let a finger trail across my puckered anal lips. I shuddered. She repeated the action and again I shuddered. Now with careful spreading she rubbed her finger over the anus as my penis was peeled back and forth. I flushed and strained down, the anus flowering against the friction of her oiled finger. Keeping my legs open and up she continued to delicately play with the anus and masturbate my swollen penis until she could tell I had no chance of holding back from the final betrayal. She had found complete control over me.
By now I had been conditioned by the sequence of manipulation so that everything lead me this total surrender. My sexual training was a total success.
She keeps my legs spread and high, making the anus flat, to gap slightly with the vaseline tricking down my cheeks. The scrotum is reduced to a mere nub, a knot, at the base of my infant erection. The penis, shimmering in baby oil, sticks out ridged as a sore finger.
Using easy jacking motions she rigorously masturbates my impudent little penis, which flushes deeper shades of red from the renewed handling. Casually she lets a finger slip in and out of the rectum, causing the anus to widen in a little greedy mouth. Soon she has the finger engulfed up to her palm, pressing as high and as deep as she can. The foreskin has by now been fully retracted to the chubby base leaving the glans bare to rubbing against the inflamed corona.
My little body can take no more stimulation. The penis turns a blister red, swelling until the pee slit is just a tiny dimple on the mottled head. She instinctively begins rubbing against the area of my immature prostate feeling it lump up in vain to try to expel ejaculate. My sore anus clamps down, clinging around her busy finger. My little penis pulses in her fingers. Spasm after dry spasm. My legs shudder and I try throwing out my arms against the restraints. I feel an immense pressure pass through me. I hear a huge sound.
Carefully, carefully, she lowers my legs down flat. She watches as my penis instantly wilts to a tiny little squiggle of limp flesh, as the color drains back to pale white. Nothing of the fight is left in me. My hair is damp with the relief of the tension. My eyes shut as if in deep sleep, and in fact I am asleep before she can pin a diaper up on me. But I know this will be happening again very soon. And it will be happening any number of times each day, day after day. It is inescapable.
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